


TAG

by orphan_account



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Bullying, Childhood Friends, Crippling flashbacks (as always), Drugs & Drinking, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Mayor Cobblepot Missing - Reward At Hand, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Riddle Me This, Robbers aesthetic, Stockholm Syndrome, Temporary Amnesia, This may or may not have a happy ending, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of torture, Violence, mental instabilities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-03-27 12:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13881174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I saw him. On the television. For the first time in twenty years. He had a black coat on, down to his feet, pointy shoes...spiky black hair. Didn't he used to have blonde hair? Why did he dye it? I always said I liked his blonde hair.No matter. The election will come to an end soon. I have to start preparing. It's not going to be easy, but this is the only way. My way. I'm going to come for you very soon, my little bird. Sorry you couldn't make this easier.[UNDER EDITING]





	1. Eddie and Ozzie - Pt.1

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by this amazing edit - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kn-9Yp6H-bs  
> And I went adventuring down the dark lost tunnel of Nygmobblepot for a Stockholm Syndrome situation involving everyone chasing after Penguin because when THAT DUDE goes missing, WITH ED, 
> 
> WE GON HAVE SOME PROBLEMS SOONER OR LATER 
> 
> RISE & FALL's next chapter will be out soon, I'm in the ditch called Writer's Block and felt that my writing was shitty so I gotta go and improve it to make everything better and intense.

 

"Hi."

He walked up to him like five minutes ago and was still standing there. The other children have gone inside, yet this poor sandy-haired kid, was alone. Ed noticed him from across the playground in his little hiding spot - a janitor shed, abandoned, with a dusty window to people-watch from. He was reading a novel by Stephen King, 'MISERY' to be more precise. And then the next thing was he heard faint cries and shouts so he peeked out of the corner of the window to see what was going on. That's when he spotted him. His hair was weird and fluffed up, he wore knee high socks clinging onto two skinny little twig legs planted in clunky Doc Martens and a deep navy topcoat obviously way too big for him, and shorts attached to potential suspenders. And he was getting pushed around in a circle by three older, larger kids. They seemed to be taunting him, shoving him to the ground and going out of their way to make the boy's day miserable.

Ed closed his book, fully focused on the blonde forced into a tight ring of other kids, all pushing him back in and pinching his sides and chanting, swearing, lashing out. He narrowed his eyes and glared at what appears to be the ringleader, a tall, huge dust-ball getting encouraged by the other children and revving the crowd up in return. Ed felt himself leave the top of the crate and standing crouched on his feet as the whole scene unfolded and only got worse and worse.

The ringleader grabbed the smaller boy by the shirt collar and twisted his head to force their eyes to meet. He glared down at him for a while as the younger trembled and shivered under his watch. "Man, look at this, fellas! Look at it. Huh! What a weird kid." A sickening smirk curled on his face like tendrils at the sound of the other kids' appreciation and laughter. Even one girl called out, 'He looks like a bird!' Earning more shrieks and mockery. Ed had his fingers latched onto the windowsill, having not seemingly noticed that his book had fallen and buried itself in a plume of ashes and stray cobwebs. 

"I'll say. What do you think we should do? What can we do, to serve you a lesson, so you'll never come scrambling up to us, and poking that weird, spotty, _bird beak_ into our business, and slithering around looking for friends. Cause here's the thing, _Cobblepot._ You're a snitch." The circle roared. The ringleader grinned, his own unpleasant spots and scars drooping like the features of a sick, sick person. The older kid drew back his fist. Ed nearly gasped but managed to clamp a palm over his mouth just in time, even though he was sure that no one could've heard him. 

" _Snitches,_ get _stitches_." Ed could only stare in horror at the small boy who squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the impact to blow.

"HEY! What's going on here? Break's over! Get back to class, all of you!" Ed nearly collapsed against the wall of the shed in relief, but then quickly stepped back, since it was all mucky and stuff. The teacher! The teacher was here. She marched across the playground with her arms swinging by her sides, and for a moment, everyone was temporarily distracted, including the dust-ball. Ed picked up his book, and smoothed over the cover, smiling to himself, when- 

"AHHHHrgh! Ug, urhh...he..that BITCH! HE FUCKING BIT MY ARM!" Ed turned his head so quickly he nearly received whiplash. Indeed, the boy was bleeding, red streaks were running down his forearm to match the tear streaks forming around his eyes. It could've been sadness, but Ed guessed that it was mostly anger. And low and behold, topcoat-boy was charging down the playground and into the shadowy corners of the school building. The teacher was mostly trying to get something to fix up the dust-ball's cut, and herd the kids back into the classrooms. Ed waited until they were all gone, looking from left to right to check the area was completely clear, and then made a run for it, going as fast as his legs will carry him, to chase after the boy he just saw take a beating. 


	2. Eddie and Ozzie - Pt. 2

 

Ed had to admit, he was a very good hider. For several minutes he did casual rounds of the school, treading with caution past classrooms, poking his head into the old school buildings, even snatching a key for the storage room which no other child has ever been before. Ed only happened to be gluing polaroid pictures as part of his Anatomy project, and he saw a drunk teacher stumbling up the stairs, entering a code onto the door he had been wondering about, and clamber up another flight of stairs. Ed was the only one who knew the code now, since she was dismissed two weeks later. So, it wasn't really a surprise that lil' Doc Martens was not there.

Ed could only sigh, and retired to his Science class with a heavy heart. The hours rushed by, and soon enough it was lunchtime. If anyone was dreading lunchtime, it was Ed, and probably the other kid too. The thought played in the back of his head but he dismissed it quickly as only worry for another troubled classmate who went through the same burdens as him, if not a gazillion times more. Ed gave up approaching the canteen years ago because of that one time he was caught in a food fight and his mother yelled at him for getting bread in his hair and unknown substanance on his shirt. 

Ed approached the door with caution, casually sliding the sheet metal out the way and kicking at the busted lock with his foot. The other two were somewhere in his lair. They were the first locks he ever picked, and offered mighty practise. Ed liked to think of the shed as the reward. The door swung open on it’s hinges, and Ed heard a strained gasp from the inside. He shrieked and had to grab the doorknob in order to stop himself- Oh, blinking hell. Are you serious right now? Ed gripped the book by it's spine tightly, and peered into the shadows.

Yep, there he was. He took a few steps, unsure, like the whole room was wiped away and he was just walking on thin ice, about to crack and break into huge fragments. Ed advanced, other hand held out in front, until he came to an abrupt stop in front of him. He could see that he was clearly injured with cuts and scrapes on his knees, a cut lip, bruises littered everywhere visible. Those scumbags did a real number on him, huh. Ed stood up straight and crossed his hands behind his back, managing a pleasant, tight-lipped smile. 

"Hi." The other boy flinched hard. He stared straight up at the taller, scary looking outline, eyes wide. For the first time, Ed got a good look at his face. It wasn't actually a bad face, or a weird looking one, in fact. It was totally normal. He did have freckles, sprinkled across his face and slightly curved nose. They were quite tan against his eggshell skin, red now from the thawing cold outside.

Ed couldn't quite pin a colour on his eyes though. They looked blue at first, and than a more grey undertone, with hazel lines around the pupil. What were they? Cerulean? No. Flint! Cobalt. Porpoise? Maybe turquoise with gunmetal silver. Whatever it was, they looked really cool. He wanted to string them up as Christmas ornaments or collect stones the colour of that for his terrarium. The last one unfortunately broke because of an equally unfortunate incident with Charles. Glass went everywhere and it was a pain to clean up. Whatever the other children called him, he was definitely not a bird. Ed had never seen a bird with eyes like _that_ before. He watched them land atop the spiky gates of Hilltop Elementary every day and their eyes were onyx black. Ed never trusted birds. You could never know what they were thinking about you, what those eyes the colour of melted tar were looking at. The ones in Gotham are probably dead inside. 

 

 **BANG.** ~~Another man down. Ed stared into the trees ahead, refusing to look down at the dead corpse. His father made him go out to hunt with him, as a 'bonding experience' he didn't know what that meant. Now he knew, at least. The ideal is to go hunting. He watched his dad load the rifle and point it into a trickling stream. At first he thought that he was going to shoot the fish, maybe take something home at last for his mother to cook up.~~

~~"Da-"~~

" ~~SHUT UP! Don't. Talk. To me." His father levelled the gun with his eyes. Ed saw it before he did. A raven! Black, scruffy feathers, sharp talons, diving down to swipe the fish. Everything happened so fast. The fish leapt out of the stream, the raven seized the fish, and he fell at the sound of a sharp, loud pop next to his ear. The raven's body was brought down and landed with a plop in the water, grew limp, and then still. He gaped. His father had shot the bird in the stomach, and he had watched it sink into the water.~~

 

It's been five minutes already. Ed stood there, waiting patiently for the boy to calm down before he could begin talking again. 

"This is my hiding place. I must've left the door unlocked." No response. "What's your name?" The kid shook violently, bunching the fabric of his coat in his hands, turning his knuckles white. 

"M-my name is C-C-Cobblepot, sir."


	3. Eddie and Ozzie - Pt. 3

 

"Cobblepot?" Ed responded. "Why are you calling me sir?"

"I-it’s called being polite? My mother always said that I should treat everyone with respect and act like the gentleman that I am." He presses his lips together meekly, knocking his knees together in an attempt to sit up more. Ed could see that he cared quite a lot for his dignity. "My parents say that too! Mostly Charles bu-..." He cuts off his sentence with a stutter and switches his attention to a smudge on the book. 

"Hey what do you possess that people use every day but never pay for?"

"Wha-a-are you asking me some sort of paradox?" Ed frowned slightly and shook his head. "No! No, it's a riddle. D'you want me to tell you the answer?" 

"Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot." Ed blinked. He stopped leaning on his knees and let his hands fall in his lap. "I solved the riddle." The beaming smile with a hint of smugness he had all over his face made the corner of Ed's mouth twitch. "Huh. That solves it. You're quite badly hurt. You should go to the nurse's office."

"I... can’t. I don’t want, to." Ed briefly surveyed his injuries and raised his eyebrows. 

"I saw you bit that boy’s arm. You did a good job." Oswald stared at him with a blank face, taking a few moments to analyse Ed's grinning posture. He decided to take him seriously. "That kid's a jerk. Don't tell him that, please!..." Ed grinned even wider and giggled. "Why would I? I'm just here to give gratitude to you, _sir._ He threw his lunch at me numerous times. I'm more than happy to see him get hurt." Oswald's questioning glare shifted into a bashful, half smile as a wave of relief washes over his freezing, damp back. He trained his eyes on the floor when Ed marched over to the barrel against the wall, sat down cross-legged, and opened up Misery to page 31.

He looked up to see Oswald send him an enquiring glance but got nothing out of it again once more because all Ed did was stare back as if this was totally normal. Oswald gave up eventually and sighed quietly, one leg just would not stop bouncing up and down and his chest hurt from earlier. He didn't expect the janitor's shed to be warm and all couches and fireplaces, but at least some closure to the structure would be nice, patch the holes up from splintered and weathered wood, finish the job the school gave up on, which was apparently changing the shack from wood to sheeted metal. That hasn't worked out too nicely. Now it's just a bunch of half wood half metal things, and a bunch of junk inside too. Still, Ed seemed content with this spot, as long as it had privacy, peace and quiet, it would make do.

Oswald decided that if he were to run this school, he would build a library for people like Ed. People who don't get along with the other idiots in Hilltop. 

Ed glanced up from his page to see Oswald violently shaking and pulling the topcoat over his shoulders and around his arms. It was pretty chilly in here but Ed had gotten used to the cold temperatures because Charles never liked it when his mother had the fireplace too big. He chewed the corner of his lip, contemplating, contemplating, contemplating ... and slid off the barrel, strode over to Oswald, and slid off his blazer. He held it out to Oswald. Oswald gaped at him, eyes enquiring. Something, anything. "W-why are you being so nice to me?"

Eddie dropped the item of clothing. The blazer pooled around his stomach and Oswald reluctantly picked it up, wrapped it around and put on his coat again, and sniffed. "Forgive me if I seem to have trust issues." Ed beamed. "I understand."

"...so what do you want from me?" His voice was no longer so shaky and closed off, and once more gained an undertone of challenge. Should Ed discover Oswald has made deals before he wasn't surprised. "The poor have it, the rich need it, and if you eat it, you'll die. What am I?" Oswald let out a groan of annoyance and dipped his head down again, cutting off the weird gaze Ed was giving him. 

"Nothing. I-it's nothing." Said Ed. He sat beside Oswald on the crate, and lay his hands in his lap. The other boy is still eyeing him warily. "You're sitting a little too close." Ed shuffled away two inches. 

 

"......my suit's all dirty. Mother will be so upset again." Ed peered down at his roughed up uniform and grimaced. "As for me. That's if they find it before it's in the wash." He smiled again up at Oswald. "My mother practically waits at the door the second school lets out. I'll never get away with it. And I feel bad because I can't wash it myself, she won't let me do anything."

"Well at least they care." The taller kid mumbles something under his breath. Unfortunately, Oswald's head turns. "What?" "Nothing! Nothing, don't worry about it." They fall into an uncomfortable silence once more. Ed was starting to regret doing all of this, and was about to retire to the storage room. He may have made a mistake, what the hell is going to come out of all this, anyway- 

"M-my d-dad died, i-i-if that makes you feel any better." It did, kind of. It was enough to convince Edward to sit back down, anyways, and talk about how much their lives kinda suck until lunchtime was over. The bell rang, and Oswald returned Ed's blazer back to him, grateful. "Talk later? I-I don't have your name…" Ed paused, one hand against the wooden door and the other curled loosely around Misery. "It's Ed. Ed Nashton." 

"But I like to call myself Enigma. My mother calls me that. Because of the riddles and questions and stuff. Doesn't that sound so cool?!" 

"No." Oswald smirked as the smile fell from Ed's face onto the shed floor. He struggles with the sheet metal, and awkwardly holds a hand up and waves farewell, stepping out into the freezing cold once more to disappear somewhere Oswald may never likely find him for a long, long time. The next lesson was History. He hated History, and slumped back down onto the crate. He didn't see Ed after school. The next day, he went to wait by the janitor's shed, but of not much luck either. He waited patiently the next day as well, nothing. Eventually, Oswald gave up and started attending lessons again, using the shed as shelter for breaks and lunches. He figured if Ed wasn't gonna use the shed, he might as well. But there was always this uneasy feeling in his stomach. 'Enigma' hasn't been seen _anywhere_ in school for quite a while. 

 

**? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?**

 

Coast was clear. Okay. Phew. Good to go, good to go, nothing wrong with this at all... nothing wrong with this at all... 

It was currently exactly ten minutes after school. Charles was staying behind at work, and Eddie told mom he would be staying for a homework club. There wasn't any clubs. But Ms Pepper announced there was going to be a quiz next week, and it was one that added onto his overall marks. He could not afford to fail this. No, he needed to get moved up and out of this set of squabbling nightmares, into the smarter set. He needed this opportunity to get out, and he did not want to lose this. The key was easy as pie to snatch again, of course, and worksheets plus tests are handed out to teachers prior three weeks so they must be in the top shelf filing cabinet, where most children can't reach but Ed, can. 'C'mon, c'mon, c'mon...' Bingo. A stack of quizlets. He snatched a quarter of them and piled them into his book bag, relocked the door, and booked it out of the goddamn Hilltop as fast as he could to go revise in the most perfect opportunity. 

The questions were long and tedious, yet some were simple multiple choice questions, with only one answer sheet to memorize and work off of, Ed sat at his humble little corner desk and scrawled away, a tedious routine between that of late hours and early mornings to going on the hunks of metal they like to call computers at school. He was typing away, finger joints sore and his head holding a sort of heavy weight on top that never seemed to leave.

Oswald seemed to be getting bullied again. After school as well? Now that was a little unacceptable. Ed just happened to see him getting punched in the face by Dust-Ball for biting him in the arm when he just won't let go of his shirt. It angered Ed slightly. He went home with no intentions of helping out, but sat down at his desk and tapped his nails on the plastic. He just so happened to have a few spare quizlets left. 

 

**? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?**

 

Class dismissed. Everyone submitted their tests. Ed watched Ms Pepper stack them and place it into the filing cabinet, top shelf. An hour later, school finishes. Ed makes his way into the Maths classroom. With shaky hands, he turned the lock and the shelves welcomed him with open arms. He found the papers atop the cabinet, and counted up from the bottom. Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty......aaand....bingo. Carefully, he pinched the edge of the paper and pulled it out.

"Edward?" If there was ever a moment Edward could be scared by _Oswald_ then it was probably now. He flung himself against the cupboard, gasping and coughing. Oswald stood by the classroom, bitten nails picking at the varnish on the doorway. "Whu-what are you doing here? I-I-is Ms Pepper here? Did you see her?"

Ed gasped in disbelief and shook his head forcefully, the papers behind his back. Now, although this was a favour, he needed to know... just in case. "I-I’m just here to get Dust-ball’s paper." He straightened his posture and pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Saw him beating you up." In the most nonchalant voice he could muster. "I assume you’re here for the detention." 

"I am. Uh-um-why do you need... Timothy’s... test paper?" Ed chuckled, and produced the copy from behind his back. He held it between his index and thumb in front of Oswald who seemed entranced by it before he snatched it away and smirked. He slid the copy in between thirty and thirty-two, then took the original quiz over to the trash can and began ripping it into shreds.

"I don’t wanna stay here in this class any longer. No-one’s nice round here."

He looked pointedly at Oswald, who came to stand beside him. They watched the last of the pieces of Timothy’s paper drift down and settle with all the other waste like snow. "When you take your test, be sure to do good, so you can move up too." 

"Oh. Will do..." Edward turned to sneak a glance at Oswald over his shoulder, and to his delight, his friend was smiling with his hands folded quaintly, and then asked him, "So what was that all about? With...dust-ball..."

"Ah. I... don’t...know." Ed shut the cabinet doors up and twisted the lock back into place. "But I have a bad feeling about him." He eyed the trashcan. Eddie frowned. 

 

"I think I’m going to ruin his life."  


	4. Edward and Oswald - Pt. 1

 

 - Aquinas High School:Science Class -

 

~~"Da- Charles! Charles! I got 20/20 for my test!" He peeked around the corner of the office. Charles was sitting with his back to him, hunched slightly forward. His shaggy dirt blonde hair was shining with grease.~~

~~There was the pungent, bitter smell of beers around.~~

~~"Charles...?" He knew this probably wasn't a very good time, but he was sure that once he showed him his excellent results, he might maybe give a grunt of appreciation, even let him off doing the dishes and laundry for a night.~~

~~He wanted one thing, always.~~ ~~At least this was a chance for them to be closer.~~

 

~~"Charles! Guess what! So, I did a test, and...I got, um, if you want to look here..." He skipped half heartedly around the desk to face Charles. His face was flushed and swollen, probably from the side effects of the beer again. His eyelids hung heavy with a purple shadow under each eye. It was only too late for him to realize. He had just woken Charles up from a nap. His eyelids flickered, his eyeballs rolling around under the lid, a snort, sniffing before sitting up in the creaking chair.~~

~~"Edward."~~

~~"Charles. Sir. I-I deeply apologize f-for waking you up from your nap. I just thought you would want to know this before mother-uh-Julia, it's, um..." He smiled nervously and watched with boiling anticipation. Charles snatched the paper from him and stared down at the piece of paper. He ripped it up. Slowly...scrunched the paper into a ball in his calloused hand...before he could even squeak, a blow landed to the right side of his head. His body slid across the floorboards and his back slammed against the wall. The man stood up, chest heaving and legs trembling with every step he took towards the boy who was half unconscious and now had an angry bruise spreading across his cheekbone and temple.~~

~~"Dad-aurgh...ack..hah.."~~

~~Everything was a blur. All he could make out was two large feet in frayed socks standing beside him. He squeezed his leaking eyes shut. The bridge of his glasses were jammed straight into his nose and the frame started pressing into the other side of his face. The plastic almost had a cooling effect on his skin which burned like fire. Charles rose from his crouching position, cracked his knees and made a satisfied low breathy grumble. Maybe he was too drunk...? Then a fist came down hard onto his spine, lodging between two fragile joints. He couldn't feel the pain. But he couldn't pass out either. It was just a numb, drugged feeling. Endlessly, continuously, being hit with a boulder. Again and again... on his shoulders, his back, his stomach.~~

~~"Don't...ha..hu...EVER...hu...call me that..." Then he brought both of his fists onto his back, the same way he would probably when a meeting went wrong at the office. And he would stand up and slam his hands down hard on the table. Just to get his employees' attention. Except Eddie wasn't a table. He was...what was he? He couldn't remember anymore. Finally, he though of slipping away into the darkness, letting the shadows consume him and spread across his mind.~~

~~That feeling is a forest.~~

~~A dark, dense forest. And he's running away from everything and the branches wrap around him and suffocate him. Then they press him beneath a layer of snow, to be buried and never seen or heard again.~~

~~Every crash sent tremors through the smaller boy' body, earned a wretch or cry or twitching limb. He lay there for hours after Charles finished with a final kick to the stomach, and stalked away, sweat dripping down his tank top he could smell it all over him. The room flooded with moonlight and cast pity all over Ed's curled up body, relaxed and fell flat, whether it was fatigue or his wish being granted, he wasn't sure. His hand drooped and nudged against the crinkled test paper with the crumpled corners already starting to soak up some of the blood he bathed in~~

~~~~

"EDWARD, NASHTON!" Edward snapped out of his trance in a jolt. He found himself staring into the face of the Science teacher. He then realized how close Mr. Corsen was standing, with his arms folded in front of him and leaning forward to inspect his student. "Class is _dismissed_. _Edward_. _"_

"oh...OH! Uh...haha, sorrryy, professor! I'll, uh..go...." He grabbed his things quick as lightning and speed-walked out the classroom. A student was waiting outside, leaning against the wall with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets. He was met with a smirking, pinched sorta face under scruffy blonde hair. Edward raised his eyebrows and held up his hands in question at the piercing eyes growing more humoured by the second. "What?"

"Oh, don't worry about it." Oswald shrugged it off and fixed his shoulder bag. "I'm going to the library to study. Come if you want." Edward sighed and easily caught up with him, falling in step with the shorter teenager and taking note of his habit of scuffing the heel of his shoe against the floor. They approached the doors and Oswald kicked them open, the wooden exterior banged against the odd angle of a brick wall and marched down the steps. Out in the open, surrounded by masses of other teenagers all huddled together screaming, laughing and chattering away about their boring, less eccentric lives. 

Edward gripped the leather strap of his bag so tightly as he strolled alongside Oswald his palms were raw from the silver buckle biting into his hand. He attempted his best neutral face, eyes on the ground and a tight-lipped expression.

Oswald on the other hand held his head defiantly and dug his hands into his trouser pockets. Edward walked in small, quick steps. You wouldn’t have missed a beat if you had lined it up with a pendulum. Oswald paced steadily, footsteps patient and dragged on. When the library came into view, so did Timothy. 

Always, he ran a little group by the library entrance, and always he was that sinewy boy with musty hair and a sore face bound to bring your pleasant day to a stop. The scars came from chicken pox, one that Edward and Oswald smirked about not being cursed with, and neither of them had gotten it ever. His uniform went from as a kid, way too small to way too large. They looked like curtains draped around his sagging shoulders.

"Heya Penguin." He grinned. Oswald looked down. "Hello, Timothy. Me and my friend here need to go to the library." Timothy stepped in front, blocking the entrance and mimicking Oswald’s attempts to get in. They went at the sidestepping for a while and Edward watched with Timothy's minions. "Woah, woah, woah!" He paused. "You have...a friend?" He turned his back on Oz to signal to his pals. "You have a friend!" 

"Yes, and I’m afraid I am that friend." Edward stepped forward. Timothy chuckled, looking the taller boy up and down. "You are...? Oh yeah, that weird dude who used to live in a janitor’s closet." Edward smiled slightly and took another step forward. "Oh, you got that right. The name’s Edward. You must be Dust-Ball."

"You what?"

"You're the guy who failed a Grade 5 maths test." Timothy physically bristled up in response and curled inwards, even though he was attempting to stand broad and strong he resembled a hedgehog. 

"And you're the only guy who would hang around with the only person in this school with a fucked up mom and disappointed dad." A string of 'ooohs' from his gang, clapping their leader's back. He smirked, looking back at Edward for approval. 

"Daddy issues much?"

It was quite short-handed, however, since Oswald's hand shot out and grasped the side of Timothy's neck before he could even spurt a word, and rammed the side of his head into the doors. Ed widened his eyes and clutched his bag to his chest. "O-oh my god.." Oswald sighed and dug around in his pocket, pulling out a switch knife. Ed immediately noticed that the edge was blunt. Of course, there was hardly any sunlight, and it was a knife, so it wasn't a time to take chances.

Oswald leaned down, his bones cracking in his knees and stabbed the point of the knife onto his shoulder. He spun the knife around by the handle, pressing the tip harder into Timothy's shoulder. "Don't say that about either of us. Please." He stood up and fixed his bag, and turned around. Edward's face was going through a mix of emotions. "Wasted so much time..." Oswald muttered, shaking his head. His hands were trembling a little when he followed Oswald through the double doors in the library, watching his footing and walking backwards, nearly tripping over Timothy who was still lying on the floor and he got out a quiet "sorry, sorry...."

Then he shut the door and didn't look back. Oswald was waiting for him at a table upstairs, twiddling the closed knife between his fingers. Edward took his seat opposite and opened up his maths book to page 31. A long gap of silence. Then Edward started snickering, his shoulders bouncing up and down. Oswald snapped his head up to stare at Ed, who was now full on laughing and trying to stifle it with his book. Oz sat there for a minute or two with his eyebrows furrowed in question at what the hell was so funny.

And then he kind of got it. Oh. His face spread into a broad beaming smile and he had to hurriedly look down again at his feet to stop himself from starting to giggle as well at Edward's red face and eyes welling up with tears. Of course, he could never win. "What's so funny?" He managed to get out in between, Ed still collapsed over the table trying to breathe. "You...should've.... ..seen his face! Oh my gosh, he...literally...shit his pants and you had a blunt knife _right in front of him!_ Oh, and his little group? They did _nothing._ They saw the knife and went, fuck that!"

Oswald wheezed, throwing all doubts out the window as the pair struggled to quiet down, but every now and then either one of them would notice a concerned stranger sneaking a glance over their shoulder at the two students trying to stifle their giggling after going through absolute hysteria minutes ago, and start laughing again. 

 

☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️

 

"Mom?" Edward popped his head around the door to peer into the dusk of his mother's room. The scent of fake perfume was still rancid and jewellery hung from every place that could improvise for a hook at the ornate nightstand. The bed hadn't been slept on in ages, though the covers were creased. She'd spent the last few weeks nursing Charles at his bedside since apparently he had caught some case of terrible flu. It was summer. Edward crept around the house a lot after the opportunity was given to him and overheard him murmuring in his sleep about death and demons. He nonchalantly tip-toed away after that. But he suspected it wasn't a cold. Or the simple release of flu. Something much more serious was going to come. Something they cannot afford, surely? Last night it was particularly serious, his mother had to stuff a piece of cloth into his mouth to prevent him from moaning too much in his discomforted sleep. Ed could hear the whole thing from a floor above, in his own little attic. He lay in bed staring up at the dark ceiling smiling from ear to ear.

 

☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️ ☂️

 

 

 

 


	5. Edward and Oswald - Pt. 2

 

Charles was coughing really badly again, spraying spittle and phlegm everywhere so no one would willingly go within five feet of him.

Not that Edward wanted to ever anyway. His mother had to run errands and sometimes she would ask Edward on his way back from school to collect medicine for Charles. The same stuff, over and over, repeated prescriptions. Painkillers, antibiotics, progressing into sorafenib, yada yada. They weren't helping either. He'd seen him sometimes when he was sleeping, and it did not look as good as his mother was telling people. If he didn't know better, he'd say Charles was catching a case of Jaundice. His face was discoloured and gaunt, he pushed food away and him and his mother got into fights way more now then before.

He could hear them when doing homework in the kitchen, the stomping of his mother's boots, the bed creaking and the belching rumble of the man in return to her sly comments. Within a month, several doctors had to visit their home, check up on his symptoms. Ed once saw them lifting his shirt off and seeing the unnatural knobs of his spine beginning to poke through his translucent skin like the bones were trying to break out. They were murmuring to his mother about abdominal problems starting to surface, because you could kind of see it starting to swell.

One week into August, and mother was barely around anymore. Edward concluded she was finding some way to get money for Charles's treatment. He came home to an empty house, accompanied by the weak moans and groans of a sick father, and left from an empty house. He was doing right in school. Everything was normal, up until Saturday night.

The TV was on, and Ed was consumed in a quiz show. Everything about it was fascinating, the colours flashing before him on the bubble-like screen, the distant sounds of an audience laughing and the presenter putting on a wacky personality. He had been experimenting with that ever since his mother told him they were getting a TV finally, even when they didn't have visual company they had a radio, but he could never be too loud because Charles would hear him and scream for him to "QUIET DOWN" or "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He couldn't talk to himself much either. But now Charles was sick, he could talk all he want. He could shout out answers, the correct ones, to every question given. He knew most of them, however, there was still lots to improve.

He still met with Oswald in the library. They were...acquaintances, he could say. He'd gotten a lot more cynical over the past years. Mom always told him never to trust anyone too easily. _Be nice, but don't be blind._ Which was...kind of ironic, since he wore glasses since he could start reading words on a page... He'd heard some wheezing and coughing through the frail structure. It wasn't too bad. The house makes everything sound weird and uneasy, the walls are thinner than sugar paper. Edward traced his fingerprints, running his fingernails on the pads of his thumb. It didn't work. He was still up there, complaining and hallucinating because he's high on every antidote tried. Edward turned his attention back to the flare of the television. 

_Congratulations, you've just won yourself teeeeen thooouussand dollars!!!_

 

At approximately thirty one seconds later Edward heard it. A crashing sound of something heavy. The scream confirmed it was Charles and not a candelabra from his mother's room or something. The first thought was if the ceiling was going to cave in. The second was to run to the cabinet for Charles's medicine. His hands fumbled with the cabinet handle lock situation for a while and then the door swung outwards and the medicine dropped to the floor, spilling half the liquid inside. 'Oh no, oh no, oh no, ohhh no...'

Edward scooped up the remaining drops of the medicine and carried it trying not to make a mess, up two flights of stairs to the top room where it was all dark and Charles was sprawled across the ground, wheezing immensely and gagging. And he looked so _thin._ So _weak._ He _could literally just snap his bones in half like a toothpick. And he did. He tested it out, and rammed the tip of his foot into the side of him. It felt_ okay. _It was okay. And then he did it again. And again. Jump to blood over the ceiling like a cavern of a sore throat and he's dragging the body downstairs into a bag. But then he imagined cleaning all the blood from his hands, it was everywhere, under his fingernails, and he couldn't get it out and it was sticking to his clothes. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. No body, no crime. No body, no crime, no body no crime no body no crime nobodynocrimenobodynocrimenobodynocrime-_

 

A skeletal hand wrapped itself around his ankle and he very nearly kicked him in the face. He jumped back and with a shaking hand handed the bottle over to Charles, who grabbed it and clung on to it for dear life. He lifted it to his mouth with Edward's help, and slumped back down again, unconscious. Edward nudged him with his hand, and sighed in relief. He lifted him onto the bed. Charles was stirring awake again. Shit. Edward tried to jump back again, but then a large claw grasped his throat and he tumbled straight back down into a cesspool of shadowy darkness. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> goddammit I’m locked out of mystic messenger because of my timeline oH N0 
> 
> also started watching Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency would 10/10 recommend 
> 
> \- acker


	6. Edward and Oswald - Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> seryy...

 

"Jesus, what'd he do to you?" Edward was sitting across from Oswald. They were in the library, the usual routine. Oswald had trekked to the cafeteria to grab teas for both of them. Oswald peered at Edward's face in shock. He looked like crap. His neck had a dark purple ring, the side of his face was smeared with shades of violet, brown and some yellow. His chin had a giant scrape on it too. _That's_ gonna become an unpleasant scab. Still, to his surprise, the beaten up, abused, neglected teenager sitting before him was quietly slurping from his cup, and showed no signs of rebelling or being angry about this sudden turn of events. Oswald set his own cup down. 'You're off.' Edward jerked his head. "No I'm not." "Yeah, y-you are. You have like a-a...look on your face. You seem way too relaxed about this whole thing as well. It's just...well. That. Yes, that." Edward stared at Oswald for what felt like forever. "It's just I'm shaken up. Who wouldn't be, right?" The corner of his mouth tilted up and he was about to smile but then realized what he had said and kept a straight face. Oswald sighed in disbelief, and forced himself to stare down into the dark circle of swirling tea, his whole mind slightly burdened. 

 

**? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?**

 

She was here. She was at last. "Mom?" She didn't bother. "Mom...you're back! You're...you're finally here! At last, I...I missed you for a bit. I took care of laundry and everything, and I gave Charles his medicine, just like you requested." He paused and stood with a proud smile.

"I'm glad you're here, mom." She sighed, and twisted around in the kitchen mahogany chair, a delicate hand picking at a piece of the pattern. She looked up at him, slowly, and slowly, her face formed into a wide, tight-lipped smile. Then she turned her attention back to the chair, nails picking at it like crazy with a focused and insane gaze. They both were just there for a while, Edward wringing his hands watching his mother. He took a deep breath to say something-  ****

"Whathasnohandsbutwillknockonyourdoorandyoubetteropenupifitdoes?" He shut his mouth. And then opened it again to gape at her. It was so brief that if you didn't pay attention it was like it never happened. "I-I'm sorry?" She waited. He thought. "What's has no...I can't do it! Repeat the question, please?" He begged. "Your father is really sick, Edward." She finally looked into his eyes, and smirked. "He has liver cancer." She mocked the words to herself, exaggerating by saying 'liver cancer' slowly.

"But I'm sure you've already figured that out ages ago." She was slicing the mahogany slower this time. She wasn't going to speak again until he said what she wanted him to say. "I......had a s..nneeaaking suspicion...." He agreed to this logic the most. "Mm. And he did that to you." She gestured towards his neck. He brought his hand up to it self-consciously. "I know you're tired of him. And I am too. We all are, to be honest." She raised her arms and gestured to the entire home, even though it was only ever her, Edward and Charles. There was no one else.

She squinted at him. "Come, come closer." Ed obeyed. He let out a gasp as her thin hand shot out and gripped his hand in hers and smoothed over the back. "You don't deserve this, any of this, you know that?" Her eyes shined. Edward swallowed and shook his head fervently. She took his other hand as well and laid them on top of the back of the chair. And then she looked him dead in the eye. "I'm going to send you to a better place." She whispered. Her own hands were kneading at his to where it stung when she burned when she pressed down. "You're special, Ed. You're a special boy, you know that? Oh, ever since you were little.....I'm going to take you to a place with opportunities, where you'll be respected." She hissed the last sentence. "You want to be respected, don't you? You should be tired of being among those...idiots." She laughed through her tears, sniffing. Ed could only nod along, his brows knitted together and sharing a empathic look.

He shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. "I want to be respected, mother. But....where? Where...are you, taking me?"

"Ander's Preparatory Academy." She announced proudly. 

 

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 

 

"You're...leaving?" Oswald was still startled. He couldn't comprehend. "Yeah! I know, right, it's-it's.....crazy? I-I never thought she'd be able to pull it off, but...she did." He avoided Oswald's gaze. "Ed, that's like, a private school." Edward made a face. "Yep." "How on earth are you going to afford it?" Edward frowned. "Shit, I didn't ask my mom the full details. I know it's a lot of money, but she said she'd have enough for a whole year at Ander's..."

"She said, they said...and how will she sustain everything at home? Buy food, buy...medication, for Charles?!" Oswald interrupted. Ed's face fell even further. "I didn't think it would be that bad...I will ask her but it's true, she only earns so much. But....she wants me to get a good job." Oswald rolled his eyes. "Doesn't every parent?" Edward pressed his lips together, his arms crossed across his chest and they were both leaning against the library wall. Seeing Edward so troubled made him just a little uneasy. He was trying, but it was a selfish feat. His mother always said, 'give someone the world and one day someone will show you the world.' He wasn't sure if that made sense, but so far that hasn't been happening because ever since Ed had delivered the news to him, he just wanted to anchor him down here in Aquinas. A crappy place for crappy people who couldn't afford to go to Ander's. He wanted to keep him here. With him. For his own benefit. But now he was starting to regret it all. For his own benefit... was he seeing the bigger picture? And by bigger picture, he meant consideration. But what good will this bring? Trade Ed for him back to being a loner again? That he didn't want. Ever again. It's Edward. His best friend. His only friend. 

"Well! Since it's your last few days here, let's go have a drink!" Edward already had his look of disapproval. "Wait, are you serious? We're illegal!" "I know a guy- well, my mother knows a guy from the bar just a mile or two from Aquinas. C'mon, we have to celebrate! This is your last time you'll be with your friend, and the first time you'll be breaking a law with your friend!"

They ended up sneaking around the back, Oswald cursing under his breath that they must've been damned because 'the guy' just happened to not be here on this day and they were instead met by a stout man dressed in black from head to toe with ridiculous shades who threatened to bug them about ID. Edward dragged Oswald away before he could start spewing lies and also insults and now here they are, way past both of their bedtimes. Edward had an inkling that his mother wouldn't even notice and if Charles dared risk getting mad at him one more time he would have a severe palpitation, so fuck it. "Won't your mom be angry, Oswald?" The answer was yes. Yes, she was probably calling the police now, and if they don't wrap things up soon or hide in the bar till tomorrow at the crack of dawn, half a search team will most likely capture them both. _'Ed would get off scot free,'_ Oswald pondered bitterly. Inside the bar was a haze, blurry saturated lights beaming left and right, gleaming tables and the corners hide the shady dealers, gamblers and murderers. In the centre were the dancers, go-hard partyers, laughing with a modest glass of punch. Edward and Oswald stalked in a single file, Ed first in line to the bar on the side. On the far end of the bar was a lady wiping the counter and on the other side were about ten people waving dollar bills and pushing against a drunkard slouched over, unconscious. Oswald glanced side to side, and noticed Edward's pestle knuckles gripping the edge of the counter. "Edward?"

"D-don't we need ID?" He look left and right, his knee bouncing under the table in a jittery and paranoid fashion. Seeing the stressed bartender, Oswald smirked and swiped up a small glass bottle with some dark, inky liquid pooling inside. Edward leaned over slightly to see it- Oswald nudged him slightly when he found that maybe he was leaning in a little too close, with Edward's right arm pressing against Oswald's broad shoulders. "Jack Daniels?"

"I don't know. Come on." Edward pinched an empty glass nearby and examined it with a frown. "That's unhygienic." Oswald mouthed. He slid over two half-pints. Edward raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. "Urgh! Oh my-agh! Oh, that's disgusting!" Oswald laughed and blinked hard to try and swallow his mouthful. "You can feel...the burning sensation down your throat." His companion opposite agreed by vigorously nodding his head. Oswald looked at his glass fondly, examining the contents as if in deep thought, then beamed up at Edward who once again out of curiosity was leaning in way too close to Oswald's face. "Cheers?" Oz raised his glass. "Cheers." They clinked, downed it in one agonizing shot, slammed the glasses down simultaneously. "Another one. On me." Edward slurred, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes. "These are fuckin free, Edward!"

"Shhhhh, keep your voice down!" Ed grabbed Oswald forearm which was resting on the counter and cocked his head in the direction of the bartender who was looking at them. Oswald coughed in response and craned over his shoulder."Mhm, okay."

 

**Four half-pints and one full pint later**

 

Oswald banged his glass down on the bar. He stared deeply into Edward's eyes. His cheeks were flushed also. What? 

"...Did yuh-uh, did you always have glasses? Like, since you were born?"

"Nooo, of coourrssse nooot, I had them since I was fiiive, so fuuck that logic, misterrr."

"Okay, okaayyy, I believe yoouuu." Oswald giggled and hiccupped. "I needa...I need to go outside....." Oswald stumbled up from his stool and leaned against the table. His feet wobbled and the blurry acid trip of club lights became even blurrier. His ankles nearly gave in and he stumbled, knocking the stool over. It hit the floor with a thump. "Woah! Oswald, you okay?" Edward stood up as well and took hold of his friend's arm gently. He nearly squeaked when Oswald fell against him fully, and if he didn't hold onto him Oswald would be sliding down onto the floor. Then he heard a "HEY!" From somewhere behind the bar and Oswald must've heard it as well, because they both sprung to their senses and pushed past the crowd, burst out the front door with a bouncer and bartender hot on their tails.

Oswald began lagging behind and Edward swung a right to an alleyway with a backdoor to a restaurant's kitchen. He could hear Oswald panting and reached out an arm, gripped his hand and hauled him into the alley as well. "Quick..." He burst out and the two booked it into the kitchen just in time, Edward leaving the door open a bit so they could hear the footsteps of the two men who were chasing after them. The heavy thuds approached, some baritone voices were heard, and then eventually faded out into silence. Edward was pressed against the wall right up next to the half conscious Oswald, shoulders touching, and for once, Oswald didn't tell him to go away. Suddenly the air seemed very thin, and he whispered into the darkness.

"........Oswald?"

Oswald gulped. "I'm here." Afterwards Edward could think of nothing else to say, so he opened the door and they both fell onto the floor, forgetting about the step. "I can't believe...you got me to do that." Ed gasped. "Same." Oswald laughed, and started coughing and retching again. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and rested against the brick wall. He fumbled around in his pocket and dug under his jumper into his shirt pocket for a lighter. He held the cigarette to his mouth, pursed his lips and lit a meagre flame. He blew out a weak puff of smoke. "What?" 

"I didn't know you smoked." 

"Well, now...you do." Oswald smiled, and pushed the cigarette back between his lips. 

"Smoking's bad for you." Oswald groaned in response. "I know, Ed, I know. Don't tell my mother." 

"...Well, I will! I'll tell her, and then you can stop smoking!" 

"Why do you give a shit?" The words leapt from his tongue and thundered between them. At the same time, small droplets of water started to drip onto both of them, dampening everything including the mood, which had gone from high to stale and tense. 

"I live forever in you, shock, drug or kill me, but you'll never kill all of me." 

"I'm _cutting back,_ Ed!" 

"You're not cutting back enough-" Edward grabbed Oswald's arm and tried to wrestle the cigarette out of his hands, but he just gripped it tighter until it went out. And even after, he still wouldn't let go. 

"Edward-stop!" Ed stopped, breathing heavily, still gripping Oswald's clothes. If he shoved an inch closer they would be kissing. Oswald yanked himself away and flicked the cigarette somewhere, and dropped to sit down on the ground. Edward stood there, arms limp by his side, unsure what to do. It was starting to rain even more heavily now, so he sat down beside Oswald at a respectable distance and drew his knees in close to his chest. Both just sat there for a while, in the pouring rain and lightning, neither speaking a word. A sort of melancholy gap faced them, and inside they knew it wasn't quite finished even though the situation to outsiders seemed final. Edward Nashton was leaving for Ander's Prep tomorrow. 

 

_. . . . . . . ._

 

_"So you want the drugs in?" The bartender asked, holding the pill in one hand and on the counter top set a bottle of Jack Daniels. "And the bouncer's gonna help you take him somewhere?" Oswald cracked his knuckles, swinging his feet. "You said you charged a hundred?"_

_"Hundred for the pill. It's ten for the free drinks on the house, and another fifty tip to the bouncer for helping you drag a body to your house. And the pill is powerful, my guy. Knocks someone out and they'll never be the same after they wake up." Oswald slumped, eyeing the bartender with a look. "So it's actually a hundred and sixty?" The bartender shrugs. Oswald sighed, waving a hand in his face. "Screw you. Deal's off."_

_"Hey! We could just give you the pill?"_

_"How hard do you think it is to plan a kidnapping and show up getting scammed?" In actual fact, it wasn't worth giving a shit. He had two hundred._

_"I change my mind."_

 

 

"You're my best friend, Oswald." 

 


End file.
